


hunters never hide for long

by catarinquar



Series: series 01 [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Episode: s02e08 One Breath, Episode: s02e11 Excelsis Dei, Episode: s02e13 Irresistible (X-Files), F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, as in not depicted but strongly implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 01:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15741342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catarinquar/pseuds/catarinquar
Summary: The thought of losing yet another month has her sweating and shaking; the stark whiteness and masked doctors would have made her lose it completely if it wasn’t because she just told Mulder that she’s fine. She has nightmares, she knows - comes awake suddenly in the dead of night, sweat-damp and breathing hard, not knowing where she is for a second - but she remembers nothing and Mulder says nothing. His looks say a lot of things, naturally, but she can't remember to translate them. Did she ever really learn?-post-one breath through irresistible, excelsis dei, and a scully family christmas. something about racked up trauma and delayed affect.





	hunters never hide for long

**Author's Note:**

> assumes a slightly different timeline than the chronological episode order; one breath, firewalker, irresistible, red museum, excelsis dei. besides which - aubrey? sorry, i don't know her.

She feels soft, when she returns. No, is returned. She feels soft after she is returned; that's right, that’s how it happened.

Mulder didn't catch Duane Barry and rescue her; he caught Duane Barry and she disappeared off the face of the earth for three months until she suddenly reappeared, near death, in the ER.

Taken and returned. She is an agent without agency.

She’s in the hospital for two days after waking, and then she's home for an additional indeterminate number of days, sick leave as per Skinner’s orders. She’s not sure how many because she's not sure when it's day or night or the next day; she’s missing three months already so what is a week or even two. She's stir-crazy from the outset and Melissa isn't helping.

She's disappointed in herself; that it doesn't feel like Melissa is helping. With. Anything, really.

“So, what was on that tape Fox  gave you?”

“It said Superstars of the Super Bowl -”

“No-o, Danes… I mean what’s _really_ on that tape?”

Well, she doesn't know, she hasn't watched it. Oh, then, does she even know how her cute partner has been while she was gone? No, and she’s not sure she wants to; she doesn't even know how _she_ has been while she was Gone. Missy tells her anyway.

So she feels soft. She would swear to God that she's put on weight, though the sort-of bloating she'd woken up with goes away within, well, an indeterminate number of days. She would swear to God, but she's not wearing her cross during those days of sick leave; she doesn't know how to put it on, maybe, that role of Dana: devout, dutiful daughter.

Scully she finds she can handle, because Scully’s partner has a case, a puzzle, an injustice (towards _her_ , of all people! And that makes her feel something; something like appreciated) to solve, and Scully’s partner needs _his_ partner, which is Scully, to solve it. Agent Scully with the FBI wears the cross too, though, and Agent Scully's partner has apparently been wearing it for the past three months, or so Dana’s mother tells her (that might have made her feel something, too, had things been different). So on it goes and up she shows down in the dark corners of the basement.

-

Agent Mulder is chipper and there’s some recertification of this and that that she aces through, namely on the shooting range, but then _there's just not much to go on, Scully, I’m sorry, Scully, we’ll keep - I’m keeping my eyes and ears peeled though, alright, Scully? I thought I’d… I thought - I’m so sorry, I… Dana -_

“Oh, it's alright. There must be other monsters to chase in the meantime, surely,” says Agent Scully with a smile.

Agent Mulder is relieved. “Actually, there's this scientist who contacted me -”

Is she ready, though - and yes, of course she is. So off they go to this mystery of a volcano outpost and Scully easily comes back to her through an abnormal autopsy, some back-and-forth with Mulder, and a feat of avoiding death by fungus.

The quarantine is another matter. The thought of losing yet another month has her sweating and shaking; the stark whiteness and masked doctors would have made her lose it completely if it wasn’t because she _just_ told Mulder that she’s _fine_. She has nightmares, she knows - comes awake suddenly in the dead of night, sweat-damp and breathing hard, not knowing where she is for a second - but she remembers nothing and Mulder says nothing. His looks say a lot of things, naturally, but she can't remember to translate them. Did she ever really learn?

They're released after a week; it was a stunt after all.

Taken, returned, interned, released. _You're okay, you're healthy and whole, you’re ready to come back to the world._ The weight of her gun in her hand helps a little, fills up a void.

She's bleeding for a few days, stop, again, stop, and then cramping for the first time in years, and she might be scared except of course for the fact that she probably hasn't been on the pill for going on four months now and surely that can mess up your cycle; she’s a medical doctor, she knows that. But then again she hasn't been on the pill for going on four months because she was Taken with a capital T. She should go to her obgyn.

Instead they go to Minneapolis for an alien grave robbing for a desecration for a Redskins game for a date for a serial killing for a - _stop! and take a minute_ \- for a serial killing for a - _stop! and you’re taken_ \- for the light for the cold for the mud for the car upholstery for hands for the cold for the dark - _stop! pleasedon'tputmeinthetrunkpleasedon’tputmeinthetrunkplease_ \- for the dark dark dark for the devil.

-

The devil is a man named Donald Addie Pfaster.

There: it takes the evil of a man for her to react to the evil of unknowns. She’s missing time. She's sore. She goes to her obgyn.

Then they go to Wisconsin where he wipes chili sauce from the corner of her mouth.

Less than two weeks later she goes to Alexandria; knocks on his door at 1.53 AM. He doesn't look like he's been sleeping; she’s glad to find that that seems familiar. That that's how it was before, and that she _remembers._  There are other things in her nightmares she's not glad to remember, though, and maybe that's why she's here.

Her doctor found scar tissue.

“Did you find anything in the car?”

“The car?”

“In Minneapolis. When I was run off the road.” When she was run off the road and not much else happened. “In the back seat -”

“No, I don't think… wait, what do you mean?”

What does she mean.

“Well, I… actually, I don't know, Mulder. Just - forget about it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

So, then - does she want coffee? No, she doesn't want his coffee and _yes-of-course-it's-late-but-that’s-not-why_ and _no, goddamnit,_ she's not here for his expired tea, either. She wants… him.

Right then and right there in his kitchen.

He doesn't see it coming, but up against the wall she still goes and in the end he’s the one who does come while she doesn't. Instead she smoothes her skirt and leaves.

That worked out fine, didn't it; yes, finefinefine, all in working order.

She's a scientist, though, which means she doesn't make conclusions based on inadequate data. She has to test all the variables.

-

Not that the next time is a planned event or even a decision.

She testifies against Pfaster, and when she's still awake at 2 AM for the fifth night in a row after that, she first wonders for a minute if insomnia can be sexually transmitted, and then she digs deeper for the self-realisation: that she's afraid of what she'll see in her dreams; that she’s afraid she'll wake up still remembering; that she’s afraid she'll wake up having no idea whether it really happened. She could prescribe herself some sleeping pills and no one would know. But that’s not true; she would know, and it would be to admit defeat. It would leave her vulnerable.

He looks surprised to see her; had probably resigned himself to it being a one-time mistake, an uncharacteristic lapse of judgement on her part.

Surprised, but not disappointed. He has her on the kitchen counter, then over the dining table. A little early, maybe, but - Merry Christmas, Mulder.

It's not like he ever uses that dining table.

So, she can't see him this time, and yet she still manages to walk out of there with a buttoned shirt and smoothed skirt before he gets his jeans zipped. Before she's home, she has analysed those results: once is a mistake and twice is - twice is enough.

The next night, she goes running.

And again.

And again.

She hasn't been practicing running since the academy. Autopsies are performed standing up; teaching is done standing up. Active field work kept her active and left her with very little spare time. Still it comes back easily enough, the running.

It feels like a bit of a slap in the face, then, when she realises that while there are often situations in which she’s very much specifically a _female_ FBI agent, there are apparently also still certain situations in which she’s very much a woman before she's an FBI agent at all. Certain situations such as when it's night and she’s not packing and perhaps most importantly - not toting along six feet of man.

-

She makes it an early morning thing from then on, except for the one time a few days before Christmas where she goes early into the office instead and finds a package from a Michelle Charters, containing a videotape documenting the injuries she sustained when she was raped. What she also finds - a different but still all too related kind of videotape in the VCR.

Ghost or no, something is different with her when she tells Mulder about the case, and later when they interview Charters. _I know this is hard for you._ She has come to realise that it is hard for herself. Supposedly that’s a step in the right direction.

“To continue our investigation, we’re going to need some kind of evidence; physical or -”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard it. Unless you have hair or semen or fibres you guys can’t build a case.”

“That’s right,” Mulder says.

She wonders if he realises, but he can’t possibly; he’s practically leering at her when they interview Arden, then saying she’s looking too hard for things that aren’t there, and surely - surely he wouldn’t be such a hypocrite; so dismissive, if he knew. She would like to think he would make exceptions for her, but then again - of course she wouldn’t want it to be an _exception._

Would he have porn lying around in the office if he knew?

What she would like - she would like for him to not be such a _man_ sometimes.

-

Her mom is hosting Christmas. Well, Dana and Melissa are hosting Christmas at their mother’s, but at least both Bill and Charlie show up with their respective wives; all of them appropriately apologetic that they weren’t there when Scully was at death’s door. Then Charlie presents them with a little baby boy.

Born in October.

Not that it matters; she probably wouldn’t have known in any event, such as _in the event that she hadn’t been Gone_ \- even her mother only found out three days ago, apparently, when Charlie finally called to let her know that he, of course, would love to spend Christmas with his family this year.

That the family is exactly one dad short this year went unsaid.

Still, it’s nice. At least Dana-the-sibling comes along naturally as they take turns ganging up on each other. Until.

“So, Missy, how many boyfriends did you go through this time around?”

“Oh, you shut up, Billy. Actually, I thought I’d found the one and only in Los Angeles, but he, well… Anyway, Dana’s secret admirer is _much_ more interesting. You watched that tape from Fox yet, Danes?”

“You’re seeing a guy named _Fox?”_

“He gave you a _tape?”_

“No need to choke on your potatoes, Bill, it was some football stuff. And Charlie, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not. Agent _Mulder_ is my partner at the Bureau.”

“He’s cute, though.”

“Ooh, Melissa, have you met your sister's colleague?”

“Tara, shush - wait, Dana, you’ve got a partner now? You’re on active assignment? Since when?”

“Since she decided Quantico didn’t provide enough of an adrenalin kick.”

“Bill Jr.!”

“Come on, Mom -”

“Not tonight, Bill. Now, Dana, do you know what Fox’s plans for Christmas are?”

“Mulder is Jewish, actually.”

“Well, his plans for Chanukah, then.”

“I’m pretty sure this year's Chanukah was in the beginning of December.”

“Oh, Danes, for God’s sake - sorry, Mom - what is he doing for the next few days while _you’re_ celebrating the Holidays?”

“I don’t know. Gone Bigfoot hunting, maybe.”

Melissa smiles knowingly. Bill rolls his eyes; Tara kicks his shin.

-

In actuality Scully is also pretty sure that Mulder doesn't celebrate Chanukah at all. She remembers something from Before, something about him saying that his mother would _never._ He’s probably celebrating some bastardized version of Christmas with the Gunmen.

He told her that Frohike, for all _his_ leering, showed up at the hospital in a tuxedo and with flowers.

When she excuses herself to her room to go change for Midnight Mass, she finds an evidence folder in her suitcase; one she definitely did not pack because she made a conscious decision to leave Scully at work and work on Dana over the Holidays.

There's a sticky note on the file.

_The only thing they found was the white paint on the bumper. I'm sorry._

_\- M_

He's sorry. For not making the sex very good for her; for not realising what it was about; for not realising what had happened; that it happened at all; for being a dick in Massachusetts.

For not getting to her before it was too late, two times now.

She looks through the file anyway. White paint.

He’s sorry that she won't ever know for sure what happened either time.

_We’re going to need some kind of evidence._

_That's right._

_There's just not much to go on._

Well, then they go on with something else, isn't that what she said last time.

For now, she goes for a run. Not too long; she’ll be back in time for a shower before church. Still it feels too much like sneaking out with her mother’s cigarettes when she was fourteen, which is ridiculous because cigarettes are decidedly unhealthy and running is decidedly healthy.

She doesn’t, at that point, stop to think about the similarities between addiction and compulsiveness; she just keeps running.

-

Later that night though, she's glad that Midnight Mass is not a time for confession. It's been so long since she last went to church that she’s tempted, but she’s afraid she would end up confessing to sins that aren’t her own.

She’s too old to speculate on Christmas presents, so she spends the rest of Christmas Night contemplating that: whose sins they are.

Pfaster: If nothing else, he still ran her off the road, kidnapped her, kept her tied up in a closet; would have killed her and then desecrated her body. Acts that can all be classified as both crimes _and_ sins. Acts that were - are - wholly and fully _his_ ; she never read Mulder’s profile on the bastard and only knows the cursory details of his supposedly horrible childhood, but she knows his mother didn’t do these things to her; knows that his sisters didn’t either.

Pfaster is locked away for the rest of his miserable life.

Duane Barry, who attacked her and locked her in the trunk of her own car and abducted her as far as Skyland Mountain. Explained and, if she’s generous, excused by his mental state - but not exonerated.

His unrighteous death, by virtue of being unrighteous, is only of little comfort.

Mulder with his childhood trauma-induced one-track mind, blind to everything else but his search for his sister and the Truth - a search Scully has been hurt by so many times even before she was Taken. But Mulder did not ask for her. She was assigned to work with him - work _against_ him, really; to disprove his wild theories. Instead she’s done her best to give them credence.

Leaving Them with a capital T. The people who assigned her in the first place; the people who closed the X-files department because they got too close to something. The people who took her from Skyland Mountain; experimented on her; did things she’s not even sure they did because she only remembers fragments of it in her nightmares. No doubt the same people who took Samantha.

Alex Krycek. The silent cigarette-smoking man in Blevins’ office, in Skinner’s office. That’s where they start.

Mulder’s search has truly become Scully’s own, but if his goal is Truth and justice, she thinks hers is revenge - will be for a while yet at least. Perhaps not a very Christmassy thought; certainly not a Catholic virtue, but a strong motivator to be sure.

She’s too old to speculate on Christmas presents, so she spends the rest of Christmas Night promising herself they’ll find Them.

**Author's Note:**

> say hi on [tumblr](https://catarinquar.tumblr.com)!


End file.
